


Finding Family

by thepatchmatrix



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Daredevil (TV), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Awesome Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Awesome Karen Page, Awesome Phil Coulson, Clint Barton Feels, Clint Needs a Hug, Found Family, Gen, Hawkeye 22 Kinda Compliant, Hostage Situations, Hurt Clint Barton, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, M/M, Marvel 616/MCU Fusion, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Protective Kate Bishop, Sick Clint Barton, Tracksuit Mafia is Compared to Zebras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-04-28 05:24:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5079511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepatchmatrix/pseuds/thepatchmatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The past two years have been absolute hell for Clint Barton. From losing his husband to Loki's spear to losing his team's trust to Hydra, life has been absolute shit. Luckily for him, he's managed to find some family along the way.</p><p>This is 4 times Clint's gotten into trouble and no one's coming looking and 1 time someone came looking before the trouble started, kind of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Clint and the Hydra Debacle

**Author's Note:**

> This took a few weeks of character wrangling and more than a few tears when scenes took horrible tangents, but i managed to finish it! This is a fusion of Fraction's Hawkeye and the MCU.
> 
> Please enjoy!

After New York, after the mayhem and the mind-control and the loss of his _husband_ , all Clint Barton wanted to do was sleep. He wanted to curl up in his _(their)_ bed on his _(their)_ farm and never leave. Unfortunately, SHIELD had a different plan. After three months’ worth of confinement and tests and _“how do you feel?”_ and _“are you sleeping?”_ and _“Why not try seeking out a close relationship instead of your usual one night stands?”_ Clint finally lost it. Yes, part of it was his fault, he knows they would have handled his treatment better if anyone had known about his relationship with Phil, but they’d agreed to keep it secret from everyone, from _Natasha_. Telling anyone now would be the ultimate betrayal in Clint’s eyes. So, instead of doing the smart thing, Clint broke out of the medical wing of the Triskelion, slammed his way into Fury’s office and demanded a mission or a pink slip. With a surprisingly little amount of fuss and/or ranting, Clint was given an assignment.

_Alone_.

With Captain America working for SHIELD, Natasha’s usual cohort living under doctoral supervision and Phil dead, Strike Team Delta had been disbanded. Clint was now being sent on solo missions (which he hated), wet works assignments (which he hated even more), or solo wet work tasks (which were the _literal worst_ ). When Clint had worked with his team, when his husband had been alive to protect his assets, they had stayed away from assassinations and seduction missions that went too far. Phil had seen how badly the missions could wear on his teammates. He went to great lengths to stop Natasha’s eyes from dimming to a dead stare for weeks at a time or to keep Clint from disappearing to their farm for days and coming back 10 pounds lighter with blood dripping from over-worked fingers. With Phil gone, Clint was guaranteed to be working with the wet works department more often than not. By the time the anniversary of Phil’s death came around, Clint was wishing fervently for that pink slip.

~*~

SHIELD fell on a Sunday. Clint was sitting on a rooftop in the center of Minsk’s factory district waiting for his target to finish an arms deal. It was one of the few assignments Clint had a back-up and extraction plan on. For once, he’d gone into the mission unworried. Of course, when a gun barrel touched the back of his neck and he was ordered to “Stand Up” in a bark of Russian, Clint felt a spark of surprise. The fight was short and brutal, Clint finding himself falling into a sea of black as the man with the gun and short temper put a bullet in Clint’s leg.

Clint woke in a small cell. A small barred window sat high up on one wall. A TV blaring news of SHIELD’s destruction and Hydra’s reappearance was on the opposite side of the bars from Clint. A man sat chuckling as he stared at the horror on Clint’s face.

“Seems you’re secretly a Nazi,” the man’s voice was full of arrogance, “My mother was a prisoner in one of your concentration camps. I think she would be proud of what I’m going to do to you.”

Clint could only close his eyes and hope that Natasha would notice when he didn’t answer any of her calls and not assume he was Hydra.

~*~

By the end of the third week, Clint was sure he was going to die. The TV, which hadn’t been turned off in the time he’d been held captive, showed almost continuous coverage of the SHIELD debacle. It also showed the rest of the Avengers living it up in New York as they attended trails and press conferences to assure the public of their allegiance to the “True SHIELD”, not the damaged and poisonous organization they’d managed to take down. Clint hadn’t been mention once.

It takes another week and he’s not exactly sure how he does it, but Clint gets out. All he can remember is that the man had let down his guard after the sixth cigarette he’d put out on Clint’s clavicle and suddenly Clint was putting a knife through the man’s throat and bolting (limping) quickly to the cell door.

Clint came back to himself in the dingy backroom of one of his old contacts from his years after the circus but before SHIELD. After a quick patch job and the liberal application of makeup to hide the worst of the bruises on his face, Clint began the journey back to New York. Maybe Natasha wouldn’t hate him for not being there to help when things went to shit. Hopefully they’d give him time to explain instead of killing him on sight.

~*~

Clint needn’t have worried. When he reached Avenger’s Tower, JARVIS let him right in. Clint made sure to hide his discomfort behind a blank mask as he rode the elevator to the communal floor where the rest of the team was currently located. When the doors opened, Clint tensed.

None of the Avengers noticed his presence, not even Natasha.

_How the fuck do any of them survive?_

“H-hey,” Clint’s voice was rough, his vocal cords still recovering from the hours of screaming he’d been doing over the previous month.

Natasha barely turned away from the plans the rest of the Avengers were studying to greet him.

“I see you finally made it. You’re a bit late,” she said bitterly, her eyes focused on her tablet screen in her hands, “Could’ve used your help when shit was hitting the fan _Barton_.”

Barton, that’s what did it for Clint. Natasha never called him Barton unless she was teasing him. Seemed she did blame him for not being there after all. He wanted to cry. Instead he replied, “Yeah, I got caught in Minsk. Spent—“

Tony cut Clint off before he could finish explaining, “We already checked you out Katniss. We know you’re not Hydra. JARVIS can take you down to your floor and you can get settled. We already had dinner so you can fend for yourself.”

No one else acknowledged Clint as he walked back into the elevator and rode down to what was apparently his “floor.” After a quick walkthrough, Clint spent the next week holed up in his new living space only leaving once for a dentist appointment to replace the molars he’d lost to the man in Minsk and grabbing enough energy bars to last through his self-imposed isolation.

Clint didn’t receive a single visitor.

 

TBC


	2. Clint vs. The Russian Bros

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's where the whole 616/MCU fusion starts! Thank you to all the wonderful people who've left comments and kudos. You rock!
> 
> Please enjoy

Clint hadn’t lived in Avengers Tower in over a month. Instead, he used some of the huge ( _Huge!)_ amount of cash he’d stored away from those days after the circus but before SHIELD to forcibly buy an apartment building in Bed-Stuy. Because JARVIS liked Clint and was a totally awesome bro, he forwarded any requests or messages the residents of the tower sent to Clint’s floor directly to his cell. Even when it had taken Clint an hour to get to the tower and meet Tony in his lab after the man had asked for Clint’s opinion on some new arrow heads (all of which were shit, by the way), no one had a clue. Not even Natasha, though she had the excuse of almost non-stop missions since the whole “SHIELD is Hydra” thing. And she was still pissed at him for missing the entire thing anyway.

Instead of sulking in his apartment (re: entire fucking floor!) in Avenger’s Tower, Clint sulked in his shitty Bed-Stuy apartment and spent his days running off members of the Russian Mob instead of working himself to death to get any of the Avenger’s attentions. Of course, this was not to say that he particularly _enjoyed_ beating the hell out of deadbeat mobsters, especially when they came back with reinforcements. Or when those reinforcements overwhelmed him and dragged him back to their secret mob-lair to talk to their secret mob-boss. Like right now.

“Do you guys have your tracksuits specially ordered and made? Or did you steal the wrong shipment and ended up with clothes instead of guns?” Clint was currently staring out of his right eye (his left eye having swollen shut) at a sea of red track suits.

_It’s like a herd of zebras. Can’t tell where one starts and another ends._

Clint knew his mouth continued to move, that words were still pouring out of him, but for the life of him, he had no clue what he was saying. An old man, the only one in a _white_ track suit so he must be the special god father or mob-boss or daddio or whatever to the red, Russian lemmings behind him, made the usual threats. It was pretty standard, 24 hours to get out or everyone dies. Clint was pretty sure he nodded but it must not have been enough because the old man huffed and walked away with a gesture at some men to Clint’s left. As most of the mob ( _hehe, mob_ ) filtered out of the building, the men to Clint’s left proceeded to forcefully close his other eye, with his fist.

~*~

 _Why do they always throw me in a dumpster? Why not in front of a hospital or at my door step or_ not _in a dumpster?_

Clint groaned pitifully as the lid to the dumpster was lifted and someone shrieked.

“Oh my god, Clint! What the hell happened!” it was Mark (or Davy or Connor or something. Clint couldn’t keep up with his name changes at the moment so he was going with Mark).

“I tried to break a baseball bat with my face,” Clint breathed out, his voice barely a whisper.

Mark sighed heavily, “Don’t quit your day job. Stay here, I’m gonna need help to get your heavy ass up to your rooms.”

Clint managed to wedge his left eye open a few millimeters, the dying sunlight making the task even more difficult by hitting him directly in the face. He attempted to death-glare at Mark. The man just rolled his eyes and jogged off.

Five minutes later, Mark was back with half the building and Kate.

“Seriously?” Kate was staring down at Clint through the open lid, “A baseball bat?”

“I’m hilarious and you know it,” Clint coughed, a bit of blood flying from his mouth.

Kate sighed heavily, trying to keep her panic from showing by putting on a displeased face, “Alright Dummy, let’s get your ass to a hospital.”

Clint was able to get his right eye open enough to give Kate a proper glare as he adamantly declared, “No hospital. No internal bleeding just bit my cheek.”

Sighing again, Kate agreed and began directing the tenants around her. It only took ten minutes to pry Clint out of the dumpster and drag him up to his couch. The rest of the buildings residents slowly drifted into Clint’s apartment. Clint wanted to direct them out, but when Grills showed up with an electric grill and started cooking hotdogs, he let himself sink deeper into his couch.

Looking around his apartment, hearing the laughter and conversation, pushing Lucky and his overly curious nose out of his face, and fielding questions from Little Simone # 1, Clint felt warmth building in his chest.

_This. This is what I was looking for._

If anyone saw the few tears that managed to leak out of his swollen eyes before he wiped them off against his wrist, they didn’t mention it.


	3. Clint Seeks a Lawyer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally the inclusion of Daredevil.

Taped to the door was a file folder. On it, someone had written _Nelson and Murdock Attorneys at Law_ in black marker _._ Clint liked these guys already.

Having acquired (re: stolen with good intent) a building, Clint had needed to bribe both a notary and the teller at the recorder’s office to look the other way. With anybody but the Tracksuit Mafia, that would have been all Clint needed to keep the building and its tenants safe, but he’d discovered who the Russian Brodiots were in bed with and now needed legal representation. Having checked out all the lawyers in Brooklyn and found them wanting or working for the Tracksuit Mafia, Clint started looking outside the borough.

Clint had accidentally stumbled upon an advertisement for the new firm in a freebie paper. Or, more accurately, fell face first into. For a man who’d spent his formative years as a circus act, he was pretty uncoordinated when not in the middle of a fight. So, after tripping over what might have been a pebble, Clint found himself face-to-face with a blood covered advertisement for the budding law firm. After a quick internet search, a few calls to some informants and a background check from JARVIS, Clint was willing to give them a chance.

Of course, Clint forgot one crucial detail. Good, clean, upstanding lawyers make enemies. So when Clint pushed his way into the office, he was confronted by three masked men and a crying woman bound and gagged on the floor. The men turned and stared at Clint as he froze in the doorway.

“Um, I think I ha—, “there was a slight scuffing sound behind Clint and then he felt a sharp pain.

~*~

Clint’s vision was blurry when he came to. His arms had been bound behind his back, a strip of duct tape covered his mouth, and he was laying on his right side facing the entrance to the law office. Looking around the room, Clint counted five masked men. One of them was holding a bloodied pipe. From the dull ache radiating from the back of his head, Clint was pretty sure the blood was his.

“What type of lawyer’s never in his office? We’ve been here all day and neither of the pricks has shown up!” The man with a green mask was talking angrily into his phone, “They need to be here for this to actually work!”

_Seriously? I just can’t stay away from organized crime, can I?_

Clint slowly twisted his wrists, trying to determine if he’d be able to break the tape around them or if he’d need something to cut through. As his hand moved, he brushed some fabric. Freezing, Clint suddenly remembered the woman. Carefully turning his head, he glanced behind him. The woman was sitting with her feet pulled to the side, her head hanging as she looked at Clint. Their eyes met. The fear he found in her blood-shot gaze was overwhelming. Clint tried to give her a reassuring look, but from the way she turned away, he knew he’d failed.

Wanting to end the whole situation quickly, Clint went back to working on his bonds. The tape being too strong for him to tear apart, he slowly maneuvered himself until his hands were pressed against the edge of the desk. Before Clint could start working on the tape, the man on the phone finally finished his conversation and turned to the hostages.

“Well, seems we’ll be here for a while. We’re gonna need some entertainment, boys. We ain’t allowed to hurt the woman, but the boss didn’t say anything about the guy.”

_What the futz did I do in a previous life? Must a been a serial killer or something…_

The man with the pipe pulled Clint to his feet and shoved him into the arms of one of the other men, this one wearing a bright blue hoodie. The world spun around the injured man and he barely kept his upward stance as the men began to shove him between them. The man with the green mask, the leader of the hostage taking, stood to the side and watched on.

Clint was sure his legs would give out by the fifth time he’d rounded the circle of men. Then, the man in the bright blue hoodie and another man in black cargo pants grabbed Clint’s arms. The man with the pipe moved to stand in front of Clint and began swinging. Each hit sounded out with a dull thump. By the tenth hit, Clint was slumped in the men’s arms. The man with the pipe pulled back for a heavy swing right toward Clint’s head when the door to the office was kicked in and the men dropped Clint to the floor.

Standing in the doorway was a man in a red costume. Clint had heard about the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen when he’d lived at Avengers tower. At the time, the man had been barely a blip on the Avenger’s radar. Now, watching the man fight, Clint quickly moved the man’s threat level from low straight to hella high. The fight lasted less than a minute.

“Karen,” the devil pulled the tape from the woman, Karen’s, mouth, “Did they hurt you?”

Karen shook her head as she leaned forward to allow the man to reach her bound hands, “No, they were under orders to leave me alone. They hurt him pretty badly though,” She gestured to Clint with her newly-freed hand.

Turning towards Clint, and subsequently the door, a frown appeared on the Devil’s face. Racing footsteps sounded in the hall as a man ran into the room. He didn’t seem to notice Clint among the unconscious hostage takers because he exclaimed, “Matt! Karen! Thank God you’re okay! I got a letter warning us to back off but…”

The man petered off as Karen glared at him, “Way to tell the world Matt’s identity Foggy!”

Foggy made a few sputtering sounds that must have been an apology because Karen slumped back against the desk.

Clint just stared. Matt Murdock, blind lawyer, was the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen? Considering the reoccurring problems Clint had with his hearing and the sharpening of his eyesight to compensate, he’d be a hypocrite to disregard to possibility. Plus it would be just his luck to have picked the only lawyer in the city that moonlights as a vigilante.

Heaving a sigh, Matt pulled off the helmet on his costume and turned his sightless eyes on Clint. The stare was a little unnerving, “You’ve seen what I can do. You even think about telling anyone and you’ll be in more pain than you can imagine.”

Clint nodded, unable to speak with duct tape still covering his mouth.

“He just nodded,” Karen narrated, needlessly in Clint’s opinion. He was pretty sure the man could ‘see’ it well enough. From the blush that appeared on Karen’s face, Clint was sure she’d realized her blunder, even as Matt thanked her.

Foggy reached down and peeled the tape off Clint’s face before helping Matt turn him on his side so the costumed man could free his hands. After the tape’s removal, the men helped Clint sit up.

“Thanks, I, uh, I—“

“What were you doing here anyway?” Matt’s voice was curious and hard, “Also, who are you?”

“Matt!” Karen looked ready to slap him.

“I’m Clint Barton; I was hoping to hire you guys?”

~*~

Lucky jumped on Clint the moment he walked through his apartment door. A pizza crust was hanging out of his mouth. Kate was lying on Clint’s couch watching the news.

“Hey, I brought dinner but you weren’t here. I think Lucky ate your share. Anyways, where were you?” Kate turned to look at Clint was he walked to the couch, “What happened to your face!”

“I found some lawyers. They’ve agreed to help me out with the legalities behind acquiring a building. Also seems they make enemies as easily as I do.”

Kate sighed and got up to grab Clint’s dwindling first aid kit, “Explain while I patch your sorry butt up.”


	4. Clint Finds Friends

The bartender cut Clint off after his seventh beer. He’d been in the bar for two hours trying to drown out the voice in his head shouting about how he wasn’t good enough to have a protégé. Kate had taken off for California the week before. She’d even taken Lucky with her. And Barney had taken Simone and her kids on some mini vacation upstate with some of the cash Clint had shoved at him from the enormous stash in his basement. With everyone gone, his apartment was way too quiet. So, instead of stewing in silence, Clint had made his way to a bar four blocks over from the building and proceeded to get drunk off his ass.

With no future beer in sight, Clint decided to walk back to his apartment and pass out for the night. He never made it that far. About half way down the first block, Clint’s vision suddenly went blurry and the warmth he’d felt building over the day ramped up. He staggered sideways and managed to barely miss a dumpster as his feet moved him into an alley. His head felt like it was exploding and his body became unbearably heated.

_Oh futz…_

Clint’s legs gave out as his eyes rolled back. He was out before he hit the ground.

~*~

Clint forced his eyes open. The bright white lights made his eyes watered but he forced the pain down so he could look around the space. Everything was white. A heart monitor beeped to his left.

_Aww, hospital, no…_

He felt sticky, the bed underneath him wet with sweat. His fever must have broken recently. Clint attempted to sit up but a stabbing feeling in his chest and a sudden coughing fit had him falling back to the bed.

“Oh! You’re awake!” a female nurse walked into the room and began fixing the sheets around Clint’s body, “I’ll go get the doctor, anything you need before I fetch her?”

“Wa-water?” Clint’s mouth felt fuzzy.

“Of course,” She helped him take a few sips before leaving the room.

Within a few minutes, the doctor was informing Clint that he had passed out in an alley from a flu-induced fever. He’d been out for 2 days. His fever had broken earlier that night and he could go home if he had someone to pick him up, preferably in a car so the winter weather didn’t make him feel any worse than he was, and watch him for the next few days.

After the doctor and nurse left, Clint pulled his phone out from the pocket of his jeans. No one in the building had a car and there was no way he was calling anyone from the Avengers to help him out. Staring at the screen, Clint’s mind went blank. Then, inspiration hit. He could try Karen Page.

It would be supremely awkward calling Karen, especially since they’d never really talked beyond setting up meetings since the hostage incident in the law office, but she might have access to a car. And if she didn’t she might know someone who does. Overall it was a better plan than trying to get any of the Avengers to take his call.

Karen was quick to answer her phone but not happy, “Clint Barton, It’s three in the morning, why the hell are you calling me!?”

_Was it really that early?_

“Oh, I didn’t realize it was so late, early, whatever. I’m sorry, I’ll just call someone el—“Clint was already resigning himself to trying the tower when Karen interrupted him.

“Wait, what’s wrong? And don’t tell me it’s nothing, I get enough of that from Matt.”

Clint sighed, “I’m kind in the hospital? And I kinda need a ride?”

“Of course! Which hospital? And what happened?”

Clint gave her the information and she assured him she’d be there as soon as possible.

~*~

Clint had just finished signing the discharge papers when he heard Karen’s voice.

“Clint!” Karen grabbed Clint in a hug, “I’m so glad you’re okay! You are okay, right?”

“Yeah, I need some sleep in my own bed.”

Another voice piped up, “And your doctor also told us you need someone to watch you for a few days, make sure the fever doesn’t come back.” Matt and Foggy smiled from behind Karen.

“We’re using Foggy’s cousin’s car,” Karen explained, “And Matt just wanted to tag along.”

Clint nodded slowly, “Thanks for all this. I can ask one of my tenants to check in on me over the next couple days so there’s no need to worry. And my brother should be back soon so he can watch my sorry ass.”

“While I’m sure your tenants can check on you, I’m sure I can convince my bosses to give me a few days off to take care of you,” Karen turned to give Foggy a huge smile, “Right, Boss?”

“I think we could all take a few days off, get a chance to meet these tenants? And hear more about this mysterious brother of yours? “Foggy suggested.

Before Clint could try to dissuade them, Matt chimed in, “I think that’s a great idea.”

“Then it’s decided! Come on Clint, let’s get you home,” Karen grabbed Clint’s arm and dragged him along. Matt and Foggy shared amused chuckles before following them out.

~*~

“I can see why you stole the building,” Karen plopped down with a wide grin next to Clint where he sat on his couch.

“Acquired through dubious means Karen, dubious means,” Foggy emphasized with a pointed finger as he sat down next to her.

“All joking aside, you’ve got great people here Clint. And they’re lucky to have you,” Matt said from his position at the kitchen island. He took a sip from his mug of coffee and continued, “We’ll do everything we can to help you keep them safe, even if it means a visit from the Devil from time to time.”

Clint wanted to decline the obvious invitation to work together on occasion, but Clint would do anything for his tenants, for his _family_ ,” Yeah, that would be great.”

“Now, onto the less serious stuff!” Foggy announced as he jumped up from the couch, “You got any board games? Because I bet I can kick all your asses at Monopoly!”

This set off a round of bickering between Karen and Foggy as they searched through Clint’s apartment looking for forms of entertainment. Matt moved to take Karen’s vacated seat.

“I mean it about helping out Clint. I can be here in half an hour tops if you need the help.”

Clint nodded a bit as he responded, “Yeah, I know. Thank you, really. And you’ll probably be getting a call from Mariam. It looked like she wanted to invite you for dinner.”

By the end of the next week, Karen, Foggy and Matt had all received invitations to hang with various residents of the building. By the end of the month, it was official. They had been adopted into the building’s ragtag family and there was no going back, not that any of them would have wanted to.


	5. Clint Regains Family

Despite Tony’s claim when Clint arrived at Avengers tower after the fall of SHIELD, none of the others were truly sure that Clint wasn’t Hydra. So, after sending the man to one of the guest floors instead of the un-monitored apartment Tony had built for the archer after the Battle of New York, Tony ordered JARVIS to monitor him for any connections to Hydra. After a month of constant watching, even following Clint through any form of technology JARVIS could monitor when he left the tower, JARVIS could safely report that Clint was clean.

Unfortunately, during JARVIS’s month long supervision, life had gone on for the rest of the Avengers without their archer. So, when Clint came up loyal to the team, they had already been set in their interactions and there was no thought put into including Clint. Tony barely even paid any attention beyond “not Hydra” when JARVIS compiled his report. In fact, the rest of the team hadn’t even glanced at the file JARVIS had sent them, and thus missed the extensive data on how badly Clint had been injured when he arrived.

Instead of welcoming the man and explaining their distance, the rest of the team was deeply entrenched in various projects; each believing someone else was taking care of the archer. Natasha was searching for the group calling themselves a “new” SHIELD and had to keep a low profile. Sam and Steve were running all over Europe following the Winter Soldier’s trail of destruction and so had no time to pick up a phone. Thor was commuting between Asgard and Sweden almost daily, and so spent all his time on Earth with Jane. Tony and Bruce were sorting through the mountains of information leaked during the file dump and barely left the lab for sleep let alone to make conversation. Of course, these were the excuses JARVIS told Clint when the man asked, choosing to leave out the weekly dinner everyone but Clint was invited to.

Without specific orders from Tony, JARVIS was unable to tell Clint about the monitoring or allow him onto his actual floor. The AI was angry for the first time in his life. Having spent so much time and attention on the archer, JARVIS couldn’t believe that the humans could be so blind to Clint’s suffering. So when Clint finally gave up on talking to people who couldn’t be bothered to give him the time of day, JARVIS agreed not to mention his move to Bed-Stuy.

Even though JARVIS wasn’t able to monitor Clint constantly with his change of address, JARVIS continued to collect as much data on the man as he could, especially in the days following his various abductions. Hopefully, someone would finally wonder about the archer and JARVIS would have as much information for them as possible when they came looking.

It was almost a year later when everything changed. Natasha had finally found the reincarnated SHIELD. She announced her discovery by dragging an unconscious and bound Phil Coulson into the tower. A group of agents that JARVIS assumed was Phil’s team followed a few minutes later. After allowing the SHIELD agents to follow Natasha and her hostage to the Avengers communal floor, JARVIS kept his silence until Phil awoke and asked after Clint.

~PHIL~

Phil Coulson had been having the worst two years of his life. After finally discovering the blueprint of the alien city and visiting the actual site, more memories of Phil’s life came back to him, specifically, all of his memories about his marriage. He’d wanted to immediately leave the Playground and find his husband, but with the Inhumans and SHIELD’s in-fighting, Phil hadn’t been able to look for Clint, let alone visit.

When Natasha had blown her way into the Playground and kidnapped Phil, he spent his last moments of consciousness glad that he’d be able to see Clint again. Now, all his happy thoughts had been blasted away when no one, not even _Natasha_ , could tell him where his husband was.

“How the hell did you lose him. He’s may be a spy, but he’s not exactly subtle when it comes to friends,” Phil’s voice was cold, his glare deadly and accusing. He turned to look at Natasha as she cut away the zip-ties around his ankles, “And you’re supposed to be his best friend. “

No one would meet Phil’s eyes except May, her gaze sad as she watched her best friend try to keep a calm appearance. Yes, Phil was furious, but the sadness he’d been consumed by since he’d regained his memories was starting to creep up on him. If Clint wasn’t with the Avengers was he even alive? The man had amazing survival skills, but in a world overrun by Hydra and no support from SHIELD? Clint was likely dead and Phil would never get to make up for his unwilling deception.

“If I may?” JARVIS’s voice sounded from overhead,” If everyone would direct themselves to a screen or device, I can show you my full report on Clint.”

Phil scrambled to stand in front of the coffee table where a holographic display had popped up. A word document was open. Phil frantically read, his eyes watering as he scanned the medical information from Clint’s first day in the tower and the corresponding observations and conjectures JARVIS had made. The room around him was silent as everyone else also read the same information. Phil began to scan quickly through the pages, desperate for any information he could get on his wayward husband. Before he could start on the pages after Clint’s first month at the tower, JARVIS began to speak again.

“Agent Coulson, I know you would like to finish reading the file, but there seems to be a growing problem at Clint’s current residence.”

“Send me the address,” Phil was already pulling out his phone and heading for the door, “Team, let’s go.”

“Wait! We’re coming too,” Natasha’s voice was firm, “We may have failed Clint before, but we can help now.”

Phil opened his mouth to argue but JARVIS chimed back in, “The problem is escalating, I would recommend you hurry Agent Coulson. I will send the pertinent details to everyone’s devices.”

Everyone ran to grab their gear and then they were on their way.

~*~

Reading JARVIS’s report on the situation and seeing it in real life were two completely different things.

The road in front of the apartment building was filled with unconscious mobsters and flaming vans. Arrows were scattered all over the ground. A car pulled up nest to the SUV Phil had been driving and a teenage girl got out. A one-eyed dog hopped out after her. She paused for a moment to take in the destruction with a stoic face before striding toward the building, a bow in hand and a quiver on her back.

Phil was quick to call out to her from the open door of his SUV, “Ma’am, I don’t think it’s safe to go in there!”

She ignored him and walked up to the car blocking the entrance to the building. After conversing for a moment with a woman in the car, she climbed over the hood and into the building.

Both teams piled out of their cars, the shock they’d experienced at the arriving finally melting away. Steve moved to pull the pink-haired woman from the car at the entrance to the building when an explosion sounded from within. The two teams struggled to pull the car from the doorway. A group of people, Phil was sure they were the tenants of the besieged building, walked up behind them and kept the waking mob from running. After a few minutes of wrangling the car through the wreckage behind them, the opening was big enough for the Avengers and SHIELD agents to race through.

A clamor sounded from upstairs. Everyone raced to reach the floor where gunshots were sounding, the agents pulling guns as they ran. Tony and Thor flew to the roof of the building, presumably to try reaching the fight as quickly as possible. As Phil reached the third floor, the noises from above went silent. Everyone paused, listening, _yearning_ , for some sound to tell them Clint or the girl from earlier were okay. Straining his ears, Phil could hear mumbled talking. With a waving motion to the people behind him, Phil began creeping up the stairs. Without being able to hear the voices clearly, he had no idea if the voice above him belonged to Clint or one of the track-suited mobsters. Better safe than sorry.

Finally reaching the floor where the gunshots had come from, Phil almost fell back into his agents and the non-flying Avengers when he came face to face with an arrowhead. The girl from before was staring at him with a perplexed expression.

“You’re the guy from Clint’s pictures. I thought you were dead.”

“Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated,” Phil reconsidered his usual line for a moment, “Kind of.”

“Well, if you’re as important to Clint as I think you are, you have a hell of a lot of explaining to do,” She lowered her bow and walked into the apartment to the left of the stairs. Phil followed her in, barely registering the appearance of Thor and Tony carrying a bleeding, red-headed man down the stairs with them.

~CLINT~

Clint was wrapping all the bandages he could find around Lucky’s gunshot wound when Kate’s footsteps vibrated back into the apartment. She had a very distinctive swagger. Kate was probably giving him crap about the mess but he couldn’t hear here anyways so he ignored her for the moment. Then a new footstep vibrated through the floor after. While part of his brain knew Kate would have taken care of any problem before it was following her into the room, hard-earned instincts activated and he was swinging around and aiming his bow within seconds. Then, the bow and arrow dropped to the floor in a clatter.

Phil was standing in the doorway. _Phil_ was standing in the doorway. _PHIL WAS STANDING IN THE DOORWAY!_

Clint felt himself pale. More people were pouring into the room after Phil, but Clint ignored them. Part of Clint wanted to bolt to his husband and hug him back into the grave, but the rest of him could barely comprehend the sight before him. Phil’s lips were moving, a huge smile on his face. Clint mind was too shocked to try reading his lips. Then, heavy footfalls pulled Clint out of his shock. Thor and Tony were supporting a bleeding Barney between them, Grill’s father limping along behind them. Clint knew he needed to deal with his husband, need to figure out how the hell he was alive and why he hadn’t even called Clint before now, but Barney was bleeding and the police would be showing up soon and Lucky might be dead and Clint really needed some coffee.

Phil moved toward Clint, obviously trying to get his attention, but Clint flinched back. Phil paused, his face confused. Clint used that as his opening and stood, moved around Phil, and grabbed Barney from Thor’s arms.

“You’re a dick, Barn. I bet you didn’t even need that wheelchair.”

Barney’s grin spoke for itself. Clint shook his head a bit and, with a groan, pushed through the crowd of Avengers and what might have been SHIELD agents? What had Phil been doing? When Clint set Barney on the couch, Barney grabbed his hand and gestured toward Phil, a questioning look on his face. Clint sat down next to him. He really didn’t have the energy to explain. Instead he curled his right hand into a fist, index finger extended. He then moved it across his face while wiggling his finger a few times. ‘ _Complicated.’_ Barney nodded and leaned back. Clint mirrored his brother and closed his eyes. The adrenaline that had kept him on his feet was completely gone. He wedged his left eye open long enough to check that Lucky was being taken care of and then let himself pass out. He could deal with the clean-up in the morning.

~*~

When Clint awoke, he was in the hospital. Phil was sleeping in a chair to his right and Barney was in a bed to his left. Kate was slumped on a couch someone must have pulled into the room from the hallway. Karen, Foggy and Matt were sleeping next to her. A large white bandage was wrapped around Matt’s head and a cast was encasing his left arm. Karen and Foggy were covered in bruises and small cuts.

_That looks painful. Guess that’s why they didn’t show._

A few other chairs dotted the room, various Avengers, SHIELD agents and building tenants filling the space. Everyone seemed to be napping. Most surprising, Lucky was curled up at the end of Clint’s bed.

_Katie-Kate, you just keep dragging my dog into trouble._

Lucky’s tail gave a small wag. Clint grinned at the dog.

“Come here Luck.”

Lucky carefully inched his way up the bed and plopped down onto Clint’s chest, his nose missing Clint’s eye by centimeters. He rested his left arm on Lucky’s back and gently rubbed the dog. Clint reached his other hand towards Phil and grabbed the sleeping men’s hand from where it lay on him bed. Everyone slept on.

Clint knew there was conflict ahead. The last two years had been hell. The wheres and hows need to be discussed and the building would need serious repairs. Clint sighed into Lucky’s fur and closed his eyes. He could take care of it later. For now, Clint had his building secure, his dog back, and his family safe.

All was well in Bed-Stuy, at least for the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, how ya'll liked it! I'm considering writing an aftermath with the argument/fight/discussion between Clint, Phil, and the Avengers but I'm really busy with classes at the moment so I probably won't have anything posted until the end of the year.
> 
> Thank all of you for your awesome comments and kudos!


	6. Clint Confronts the Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the aftermath/epilogue!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for sticking with me! The semester finally finished last week and after 2 major papers, a large final project that was never actually assigned but due anyway and 3 final tests, it was nice to step back into the world of creative writing! I hope this fulfills everyone's expectations!
> 
> (Warning: I literally just finished this and gave it a quick read through. Hopefully there aren't any large grammar or spelling mistakes! :] )

Of course, peace never lasted where Clint was concerned. By the time Clint woke up the next morning, his hospital room had been vacated by everyone but a sleeping Barney, an awake Matt and a yawning Pizza Dog.

“They didn’t want to overwhelm you,” Matt mouthed exaggeratedly from the chair Phil had previously occupied, “I think they’re just putting off the inevitable blow up.”

“Yep,” Clint wanted to stay in this happy bubble of _“Phil’s Alive!”_ but he knew he needed answers.

Lucky’s tail thumped twice on the end of Clint’s bed at the sound of his voice. Clint smiled down at his dog and was just about to call Lucky up the bed like he had the last time he’d been awake when Lucky’s head popped up and swung towards the door. His lip curled up slightly and a slight shaking started at the end of his bed. Clint knew the dog was growling at whomever was at the door.

Phil peaked his head in.

Clint felt his breath catch in his throat, a lump slowly growing larger. His brain really hadn’t registered Phil’s state. Before the pain from his wounds and then the floating feeling of pain medication had taken the edge off of Clint’s awareness, but now, looking at the man, Clint could feel the happiness of regaining his husband waning. A small flame of anger had been ignited and was being fed by the sight of Phil as he continued to stand in the doorway.

“Matt, I think Phil and I need to talk. Privately.”

Clint continued to stare at Phil, ignoring anything Matt had to say before he slipped into the hallway.

Closing the door behind him, Phil tentatively moved toward the bed, as though he was trying to approach a dangerous animal. Lucky had stopped growling, the rumbling vibrations flooding the bed finally stopping, but he kept his head up, watching Phil accusingly with his single eye.

_Serves him right._

Silently, Phil held out a pair of BTE aids, the casing made of bright purple plastic. Clint stared at the offering for a moment, before carefully taking them and putting them on. The world burst into sound, the twin beeping of his and Barney’s heart monitors hitting him like gunshots, the quiet chatter of nurses in the hallway screaming in his head. Clint flinched violently, almost knocking Lucky from the bed, and quickly ripped the aids from his ears. Tears pricked his eyes as he looked at the aids in his shaking hands.

Phil carefully grabbed the aids and lowered the volume, making sure to show Clint the small switch on each before handing them back. Clint took a deep breath and slipped them back on. Sound once again flooded his ears but at a much more manageable level. While not perfect, Clint would have time to adjust them later, it was fine for now. Waiting a few more seconds to make sure he had his bearings, Clint then looked back at Phil as he took the recently vacated seat to Clint’s right.

“Tony made them. He said the batteries should never run out or something. There was a lot of geek speak,” Phil smiled wanly at Clint, “So, um…I’m sorry?”

Clint continued to stare at Phil, his face emotionless.

“I…When…It…ugh, I don’t know how to explain what happened. It’s a huge mess and…and…,” Phil trailed off, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Then start at the beginning.”

~*~

“I’m gonna kill Fury,” Clint stated as Phil finished explaining his last two years to Clint, “There’s not gonna be any coming back from this. I’ll shoot out his other eye. Fuck.”

Phil looked up from where he’d been staring at his lap, “But, I choose not to say anything, I choose not to come back when I regained my memories, I—“

“Oh, I mad at you too, but none of this would have happened if Fury had read us in. I could have worked with you, helped you get you memories back. Hell, we probably could have figured out the whole alien city map thing just by talking to Thor!” Clint slumped back and crossed arms, his expression deadly, “Natasha and Steve better not have heard about you and not said anything to me.”

“No, Nick made sure to have their access to the project blocked. No one from the Avengers had any idea about my not-dead state. Even JARVIS was restricted from anything with my name on it. I promise, they had no idea.”

At that, Clint relaxed. For all the shit the Avengers had put him through, at least they hadn’t stooped too low, “I really need to deal with them at some point. But not now, definitely not now. So, Melinda May? _And_ FitzSimmons?”

“Yeah, I got lucky,” Phil smiled, “They’ll probably check in here soon, I left them in the cafeteria with the Avengers and all of you tenants. Also, you bought an apartment building? Really?”

Clint shrugged and grinned brightly at Phil, “I needed something to do. And the previous owners were dicks.”

Phil shook his head with an affectionate smile and grabbed Clint’s hand, “I love you Clint Barton, I really do.”

~*~

When the Avengers walked in the next day, each was wearing a hang-dog expression. Phil grabbed Lucky’s leash and was out the door with a quick _“Lucky needs a walk!”_ within seconds. Clint crossed his arms and glared at his lap as the door closed behind Phil. He didn’t want to look at their expressions; if he did he knew he’d end up forgiving them too quickly. He knew they didn’t have the excuse of alien DNA-induced resurrections and subsequent memory loss to explain their actions. There was no way he’d forgive them as quickly as he had Phil.

Predictably, Tony was the first to speak, “Clint, we’re all really sorry. We were complete idiots and we should have paid more attention and we’re just really sorry ok?” The other avengers frantically nodded their heads in agreement.

Natasha was the next to speak as she approached, “Clint, I have no excuse. Things just got so busy--“

“Too busy for a friend?” Clint finally looked up. To anyone else, Natasha would appear completely composed, but to Clint, who could read the slight widening of her eyes and the tensing of her shoulders, she was almost crying. Clint’ s heart ached for his friend but he pushed down the feeling. He was the wronged party, they needed to explain their actions and then he might forgive them.

_Might? Of course I’ll forgive the idiots. But they don’t know that._

“Just…What did I do so wrong that you guys couldn’t even look at me?” Clint asked quietly.

Even Natasha looked visibly startled by his question. Everyone began talking at once, the jumble of voices creating an unintelligible mass of sound.

“Stop! Just stop, I can’t understand you when you’re all talking at once, jeez,” Clint rubbed his ear and gave them all a pointed look, “If just one of you will explain?”

Tony stepped forward, mouth opening to explain, when Bruce spoke up, “We weren’t sure if you were Hydra or not, so many of your files were blocked, even with the file dump. We had JARVIS monitoring you. We only planned for a month and then we’d look at his results. But, I guess we all just got wrapped up in our own projects and thought someone else was taking care of everything. It’s no excuse and we _all_ had our heads shoved up our asses. If you never forgive us, we’ll understand.”

Clint could barely believe it. Hydra? They’d thought he was Hydra? Part of him wanted to rage, to scream bloody murder, to throw everything in reach at these idiots because he was Clint Barton. His training officer had been _Phil Coulson_ ; he’d been _personally recruited_ _by Nick Fury_. But then again, John Garrett had trained with Phil under Fury so it wasn’t too far-fetched. And all the sealed files? Fury had them sealed since they referred to the occasional work he did as his old alter ego, Ronin. No one but the director and Clint were able to view them. He rolled his eyes.

_Oh there’s nothing suspicious about that, nothing at all._

Clint sighed, “I can’t fault you, at least on the Hydra front. But don’t expect me to forgive you yet. I…I need some time to get over the being forgotten part,” Clint fell silent for a moment. Maybe he should show them the files? It would allay any latent fears they had about his loyalties. And it was about time he talked to Phil about the one part of his life he’d kept from him, “Tony, I need access to the SHIELD server.”

Tony silently tapped a few commands into his phone then handed it to Clint. Clint, recognizing the standard SHIELD agent login page, accessed his account and pulled up the files, “These are the sealed files. Fury had them buried. He and I are the only people who can access them.”

Phil chose that moment to open the door and let Lucky back in. The dog charged through the Avengers, almost knocking Steve to the floor in his hurry to reach Clint. Clint gave a watery laugh, tears coming to his eyes as Lucky launched himself onto the bed and into Clint’s arms. Of course the dog would be the one to break the tension.

“Thanks Phil. Damn, Pizza Dog, you trying to finish breaking my ribs?” While there were no new stabbing pains, Lucky’s jump had reawaken the pain in his sternum, “Oomph, calm down Luck. Tony, make sure you send those files to Phil too. He needs to see them.”

The look Phil shot him was full of concern. He had never asked about the missions Fury sent Clint on.

“I’ll look at them later, for now you need some sleep before Barney gets back from PT and starts moaning about having a male therapist,” Phil turned to the Avengers, “All of you, go, get some sleep and come back tomorrow. We can discuss what comes next later.”

The team filed out as Phil settled back into his seat. Clint gave Phil a grateful look, “Thank you.”

“No Clint, thank you. Anyone else would have been unable to forgive them unable to forgive me, for the shit we put you through,” Phil lifted a finger as Clint opened his mouth to interrupt, “What we did was inexcusable and all of us will be working for your forgiveness our entire lives, even after you’ve given it to us.”

Clint smiled at his husband then leaned over for a kiss. Just before their lips touched, the door flew open and Barney came flying in, “Dr. Hardass is a dick! I can walk back to my room just fine! I—“

Clint sighed and began to move away, but Phil had another idea. He pulled Clint in for a hard kiss. Barney, finally noticing their position began to complain loudly about _“seeing you kiss, Clint! It’s like watching our grandparents or something! Cut it out!”_ but the two ignored him.

Nothing was truly fixed, but the healing process had begun. Over the years, as life progressed and friends came and went, family lived and died, Clint would look back at this moment as the start of the most glorious years of his life. This was when Clint truly started to live again.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me on [tumblr](http://thepatchmatrix.tumblr.com/)


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